"Very likely not. However that may be, the young lady was verydecidedly carried away, and having quite made up her mind that herstepfather was in France, the suspicion of treachery never for aninstant entered her mind. She was flattered by the gentleman'sattentions, and the effect was increased by the loudly expressedadmiration of her mother. Then Mr. Angel began to call, for it wasobvious that the matter should be pushed as far as if would go, ifa real effect were to be produced. There were meetings, and anengagement, which would finally secure the girl's affections fromturning toward anyone else. But the deception could not be kept upforever. These pretended journeys to France were rather cumbrous.The thing to do was clearly to bring the business to an end in sucha dramatic manner that it would leave a permanent impression uponthe young lady's mind, and prevent her from looking upon any othersuitor for some time to come. Hence those vows of fidelity exactedupon a Testament, and hence also the allusions to a possibility ofsomething happening on the very morning of the wedding. JamesWindibank wished Miss Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel,and so uncertain as to his fate, that for ten years to come, at anyrate, she would not listen to another man. As far as the churchdoor he brought her, and then, as he could go no farther, heconveniently vanished away by the old trick of stepping in at onedoor of a four-wheeler and out at the other. I think that that wasthe chain of events, Mr. Windibank!"

Our visitor had recovered something of his assurance while Holmeshad been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold sneerupon his pale face.

"It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes," said he; "but if you areso very sharp you ought to be sharp enough to know that it is youwho are breaking the law now, and not me. I have done nothingactionable from the first, but as long as you keep that door lockedyou lay yourself open to an action for assault and illegalconstraint."

"The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said Holmes, unlocking andthrowing open the door, "yet there never was a man who deservedpunishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a friend, heought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove!" he continued,flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man's face,"it is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a huntingcrop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to--" He tooktwo swift steps to the whip, but before he could grasp it there wasa wild clatter of steps upon the stairs, the heavy hall doorbanged, and from the window we could see Mr. James Windibankrunning at the top of his speed down the road.

"There's a cold-blooded scoundrel!" said Holmes, laughing as hethrew himself down into his chair once more. "That fellow willrise from crime to crime until he does something very bad and endson a gallows. The case has, in some respects, been not entirelydevoid of interest."

"I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning," Iremarked.

"Well, of course it was obvious from the first that this Mr. HosmerAngel must have some strong object for his curious conduct, and itwas equally clear that the only man who really profited by theincident, as far as we could see, was the stepfather. Then thefact that the two men were never together, but that the one alwaysappeared when the other was away, was suggestive. So were thetinted spectacles and the curious voice, which both hinted at adisguise, as did the bushy whiskers. My suspicions were allconfirmed by his peculiar action in typewriting his signature,which, of course, inferred that his handwriting was so familiar toher that she would recognize even the smallest sample of it. Yousee all these isolated facts, together with many minor ones, allpointed in the same direction."

"And how did you verify them?"

"Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. Iknew the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printeddescription, I eliminated everything from it which could be theresult of a disguise,--the whiskers, the glasses, the voice,--and Isent it to the firm with a request that they would inform mewhether it answered to the description of any of their travelers.I had already noticed the peculiarities of the typewriter, and Iwrote to the man himself at his business address, asking him if hewould come here. As I expected, his reply was typewritten, andrevealed the same trivial but characteristic defects. The samepost brought me a letter from Westhouse & Marbank, of FenchurchStreet, to say that the description tallied in every respect withthat of their employee, James Windibank. Voila tout!"

"And Miss Sutherland?"

"If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the oldPersian saying, 'There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub,and danger also for whoso snatcheth a delusion from a woman.'There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledgeof the world."

A Scandal in Bohemia

I

To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heardhim mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses andpredominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt anyemotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that oneparticularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirablybalanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning andobserving machine that the world has seen; but as a lover, he wouldhave placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of thesofter passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirablethings for the observer--excellent for drawing the veil from men'smotives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit suchintrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperamentwas to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubtupon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or acrack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be moredisturbing that a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yetthere was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late IreneAdler, of dubious and questionable memory.

I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted usaway from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centered interests which rise up around the man who first findshimself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorball my attention; while Holmes, who loathed every form of societywith his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in BakerStreet, buried among his old books, and alternating from week toweek between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug andthe fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever,deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immensefaculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following outthose clews, and clearing up those mysteries, which had beenabandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time Iheard some vague account of his doings; of his summons to Odessa inthe case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up of the singulartragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of themission which he had accomplished so delicately and successfullyfor the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of hisactivity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers ofthe daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion.

One night--it was on the 20th of March, 1888--I was returning froma journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice),when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with mywooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I wasseized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how hewas employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantlylighted, and even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure passtwice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing theroom swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest, and hishands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood andhabit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was atwork again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams, and washot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell, and wasshown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own.

His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, Ithink, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindlyeye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars,and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then hestood before the fire, and looked me over in his singularintrospective fashion.

"Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you haveput on seven and a half pounds since I saw you."

"Seven," I answered.

"Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more,I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did nottell me that you intended to go into harness."

"Then how do you know?"

"I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been gettingyourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy andcareless servant girl?"

"My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainlyhave been burned had you lived a few centuries ago. It is truethat I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadfulmess; but as I have changed my clothes, I can't imagine how youdeduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife hasgiven her notice; but there again I fail to see how you work itout."

He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long nervous hands together.

"It is simplicity itself," said he, "my eyes tell me that on theinside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, theleather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they havebeen caused by some one who has very carelessly scraped round theedges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence,you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile weather,and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slicking specimen ofthe London slavey. As to your practice, if a gentleman walks intomy rooms, smelling of iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate ofsilver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge on the side of histop hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope, I must bedull indeed if I do not pronounce him to be an active member of themedical profession."

I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained hisprocess of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," Iremarked, "the thing always appears to me so ridiculously simplethat I could easily do it myself, though at each successiveinstance of your reasoning I am baffled, until you explain yourprocess. And yet, I believe that my eyes are as good as yours."

"Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himselfdown into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. Thedistinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen thesteps which lead up from the hall to this room."

"Frequently."

"How often?"

"Well, some hundreds of times."

"Then how many are there?"

"How many? I don't know."

"Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That isjust my point. Now, I know there are seventeen steps, because Ihave both seen and observed. By the way, since you are interestedin these little problems, and since you are good enough tochronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you may beinterested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick pink-tintednote paper which had been lying open upon the table. "It came bythe last post," said he. "Read it aloud."

The note was undated, and without either signature or address.

"There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight o'clock,"it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter ofthe very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of the royalhouses of Europe have shown that you are one who may safely betrusted with matters which are of an importance which can hardly beexaggerated. This account of you we have from all quartersreceived. Be in your chamber, then, at that hour, and do not takeit amiss if your visitor wears a mask."

"This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine thatit means?"

"I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize beforeone has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suittheories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself--what do you deduce from it?"

I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it waswritten.

"The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked,endeavoring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper couldnot be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strongand stiff."

"Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not anEnglish paper at all. Hold it up to the light."

I did so, and saw a large E with a small g, a P and a large G witha small t woven into the texture of the paper.

"What do you make of that?" asked Holmes.

"The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather."

"Not all. The G with the small t stands for 'Gesellschaft,' whichis the German for 'Company.' It is a customary contraction likeour 'Co.' P, of course, stands for 'Papier.' Now for the Eg. Letus glance at our 'Continental Gazetteer." He took down a heavybrown volume from his shelves. "Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are,Egria. It is in a German-speaking country--in Bohemia, not farfrom Carlsbad. 'Remarkable as being the scene of the death ofWallenstein, and for its numerous glass factories and paper mills.'Ha! ha! my boy, what do you make of that?" His eyes sparkled, andhe sent up a great blue triumphant cloud from his cigarette.

"The paper was made in Bohemia," I said.

"Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do younote the peculiar construction of the sentence--'This account ofyou we have from all quarters received'? A Frenchman or Russiancould not have written that. It is the German who is souncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discoverwhat is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper, andprefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, ifI am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts."

As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and gratingwheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell.Holmes whistled.

"A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing outof the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of beauties. Ahundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in this case,Watson, if there is nothing else."

"I think I had better go, Holmes."

"Not a bit, doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without myBoswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pityto miss it."

"But your client--"

"Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here hecomes. Sit down in that armchair, doctor, and give us your bestattention."

A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and inthe passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was aloud and authoritative tap.

"Come in!" said Holmes.

A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet sixinches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. Hisdress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be lookedupon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashedacross the sleeves and front of his double-breasted coat, while thedeep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined withflame-colored silk, and secured at the neck with a brooch whichconsisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended halfwayup his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brownfur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence which wassuggested by his whole appearance. He carried a broad-brimmed hatin his hand, while he wore across the upper part of his face,extending down past the cheek-bones, a black visard mask, which hehad apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand was stillraised to it as he entered. From the lower part of the face heappeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick, hanginglip, and a long, straight chin, suggestive of resolution pushed tothe length of obstinacy.

"You had my note?" he asked, with a deep, harsh voice and astrongly marked German accent. "I told you that I would call." Helooked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which toaddress.

"Pray take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and colleague,Doctor Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in mycases. Whom have I the honor to address?"

"You may address me as the Count von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. Iunderstand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honor anddiscretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extremeimportance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with youalone."

I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me backinto my chair. "It is both, or none," said he. "You may saybefore this gentleman anything which you may say to me."

The count shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," saidhe, "by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at theend of that time the matter will be of no importance. At presentit is not too much to say that it is of such weight that it mayhave an influence upon European history."

"I promise," said Holmes.

"And I."

"You will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "Theaugust person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you,and I may confess at once that the title by which I have justcalled myself is not exactly my own."

"I was aware of it," said Holmes, dryly.

"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution hasto be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal, andseriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. Tospeak plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein,hereditary kings of Bohemia."

"I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself downin his armchair, and closing his eyes.

Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid,lounging figure of the man who had been, no doubt, depicted to himas the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe.Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at hisgigantic client.

"If your majesty would condescend to state your case," he remarked,"I should be better able to advise you."

The man sprung from his chair, and paced up and down the room inuncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, hetore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground.

"You are right," he cried, "I am the king. Why should I attempt toconceal it?"

"Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your majesty had not spokenbefore I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm GottsreichSigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, andhereditary King of Bohemia."

"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting downonce more and passing his hand over his high, white forehead, "youcan understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business inmy own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could notconfide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I havecome incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you."

"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.

"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a lengthyvisit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-knownadventuress Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you."

"Kindly look her up in my index, doctor," murmured Holmes, withoutopening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system fordocketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it wasdifficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not atonce furnish information. In this case I found her biographysandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staffcommander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea fishes.

"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year1858. Contralto--hum! La Scala--hum! Prima donna Imperial Operaof Warsaw--yes! Retired from operatic stage--ha! Living inLondon--quite so! Your majesty, as I understand, became entangledwith this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and isnow desirous of getting those letters back."

"Precisely so. But how--"

"Was there a secret marriage?"

"None."

"No legal papers or certificates?"

"None."

"Then I fail to follow your majesty. If this young person shouldproduce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is sheto prove their authenticity?"

"There is the writing."

"Pooh-pooh! Forgery."

"My private note paper."

"Stolen."

"My own seal."

"Imitated."

"My photograph."

"Bought."

"We were both in the photograph."

"Oh, dear! That is very bad. Your majesty has indeed committed anindiscretion."

"I was mad--insane."

"You have compromised yourself seriously."

"I was only crown prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now."

"It must be recovered."

"We have tried and failed."

"Your majesty must pay. It must be bought."

"She will not sell."

"Stolen, then."

"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransackedher house. Once we diverted her luggage when she traveled. Twiceshe has been waylaid. There has been no result."

"No sign of it?"

"Absolutely none."

Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he.

"But a very serious one to me," returned the king, reproachfully.

"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with thephotograph?"

"To ruin me."

"But how?"

"I am about to be married."

"So I have heard."

"To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meiningen, second daughter of theKing of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of herfamily. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of adoubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end."

"And Irene Adler?"

"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. Iknow that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soulof steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women and themind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marryanother woman, there are no lengths to which she would not go--none."

"You are sure she has not sent it yet?"

"I am sure."

"And why?"

"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when thebetrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday."

"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes, with a yawn. "Thatis very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance tolook into just at present. Your majesty will, of course, stay inLondon for the present?"

"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham, under the name of theCount von Kramm."

"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress."

"Pray do so; I shall be all anxiety."

"Then, as to money?"

"You have carte blanche."

"Absolutely?"

"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom tohave that photograph."

"And for present expenses?"

The king took a heavy chamois-leather bag from under his cloak, andlaid it on the table.

"There are three hundred pounds in gold, and seven hundred innotes," he said.

Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his notebook, and handedit to him.

"And mademoiselle's address?" he asked.

"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood."

Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he,thoughtfully. "Was the photograph a cabinet?"

"It was."

"Then, good-night, your majesty, and I trust that we shall soonhave some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he added, asthe wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. "If youwill be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon, at three o'clock,I should like to chat this little matter over with you."

II

At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes hadnot yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left thehouse shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat downbeside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him,however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in hisinquiry, for, though it was surrounded by none of the grim andstrange features which were associated with the two crimes which Ihave already recorded, still, the nature of the case and theexalted station of his client gave it a character of its own.Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my friendhad on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of asituation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it apleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow thequick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the mostinextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariablesuccess that the very possibility of his failing had ceased toenter into my head.

It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed faceand disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as Iwas to my friend's amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had tolook three times before I was certain that it was indeed he. Witha nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in fiveminutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his handsinto his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire,and laughed heartily for some minutes.

"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked, and laughed againuntil he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair.

"What is it?"

"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how Iemployed my morning, or what I ended by doing."

"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching thehabits, and, perhaps, the house, of Miss Irene Adler."

"Quite so, but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you,however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock thismorning in the character of a groom out of work. There is awonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one ofthem, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon foundBriony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, butbuilt out in the front right up to the road, two stories. Chubblock to the door. Large sitting room on the right side, wellfurnished, with long windows almost to the floor, and thosepreposterous English window fasteners which a child could open.Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage windowcould be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked roundit and examined it closely from every point of view, but withoutnoting anything else of interest.

"I then lounged down the street, and found, as I expected, thatthere was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of thegarden. I lent the hostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses,and I received in exchange two-pence, a glass of half and half, twofills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desireabout Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people inthe neighborhood, in whom I was not in the least interested, butwhose biographies I was compelled to listen to."

"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked.

"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She isthe daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say theSerpentine Mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts,drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp fordinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings.Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark,handsome, and dashing; never calls less than once a day, and oftentwice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton of the Inner Temple. See theadvantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home adozen times from Serpentine Mews, and knew all about him. When Ihad listened to all that they had to tell, I began to walk up anddown near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan ofcampaign.

"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in thematter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was therelation between them, and what the object of his repeated visits?Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former,she had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping. If thelatter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question dependedwhether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn myattention to the gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was adelicate point, and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fearthat I bore you with these details, but I have to let you see mylittle difficulties, if you are to understand the situation."

"I am following you closely," I answered.

"I was still balancing the matter in my mind, when a hansom cabdrove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprung out. He was aremarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and mustached--evidentlythe man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry,shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the maid who openedthe door, with the air of a man who was thoroughly at home.

"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpsesof him in the windows of the sitting room, pacing up and down,talking excitedly and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing.Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than before. Ashe stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocketand looked at it earnestly. 'Drive like the devil!' he shouted,'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to the Churchof St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if you do it intwenty minutes!'

"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not dowell to follow them, when up the lane came a neat little landau,the coachman with his coat only half buttoned, and his tie underhis ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of thebuckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall doorand into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but shewas a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for.

"'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried; 'and half a sovereignif you reach it in twenty minutes.'

"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancingwhether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind herlandau, when a cab came through the street. The driver lookedtwice at such a shabby fare; but I jumped in before he couldobject. 'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereignif you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes totwelve, and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind.

"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but theothers were there before us. The cab and landau with theirsteaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paidthe man, and hurried into the church. There was not a soul theresave the two whom I had followed, and a surpliced clergyman, whoseemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three standingin a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle likeany other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to mysurprise, the three at the altar faced round to me, and GodfreyNorton came running as hard as he could toward me.

"'Thank God!' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!'

"'What then?' I asked.

"'Come, man, come; only three minutes, or it won't be legal.'

"I was half dragged up to the altar, and, before I knew where Iwas, I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in myear, and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generallyassisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, toGodfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and therewas the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady on theother, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the mostpreposterous position in which I ever found myself in my life, andit was the thought of it that started me laughing just now. Itseems that there had been some informality about their license;that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them without awitness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance saved thebridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in search of abest man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean to wear it onmy watch chain in memory of the occasion."

"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I; "and whatthen?"

"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as ifthe pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate veryprompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church door,however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she toher own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as usual,'she said, as she left him. I heard no more. They drove away indifferent directions, and I went off to make my own arrangements."

"Which are?"

"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing thebell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely tobe busier still this evening. By the way, doctor, I shall wantyour cooperation."

"I shall be delighted."

"You don't mind breaking the law?"

"Not in the least."

"Nor running a chance of arrest?"

"Not in a good cause."

"Oh, the cause is excellent!"

"Then I am your man."

"I was sure that I might rely on you."

"But what is it you wish?"

"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear toyou. Now," he said, as he turned hungrily on the simple fare thatour landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for Ihave not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we mustbe on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returnsfrom her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her."

"And what then?"

"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is tooccur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You mustnot interfere, come what may. You understand?"

"I am to be neutral?"

"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some smallunpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my beingconveyed into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards thesitting-room window will open. You are to station yourself closeto that open window."

"Yes."

"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."

"Yes."

"And when I raise my hand--so--you will throw into the room what Igive you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry offire. You quite follow me?"

"Entirely."

"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long, cigar-shaped roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, fitted with a cap at either end, to make it self-lighting.Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, itwill be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk tothe end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. Ihope that I have made myself clear?"

"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and,at the signal, to throw in this object, then to raise the cry offire and to wait you at the corner of the street."

"Precisely."

"Then you may entirely rely on me."

"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that Iprepared for the new role I have to play."

He disappeared into his bedroom, and returned in a few minutes inthe character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformistclergyman. His broad, black hat, his baggy trousers, his whitetie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering andbenevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could haveequaled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. Hisexpression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with everyfresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even asscience lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist incrime.

It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it stillwanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves inSerpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were justbeing lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge,waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such asI had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes's succinct description, butthe locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On thecontrary, for a small street in a quiet neighborhood, it wasremarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed mensmoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors grinder with hiswheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse girl, andseveral well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down withcigars in their mouths.

"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of thehouse, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photographbecomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she wouldbe as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton as our clientis to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question is--where are we to find the photograph?"

"Where, indeed?"

"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It iscabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman'sdress. She knows that the king is capable of having her waylaidand searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. Wemay take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her."

"Where, then?"

"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. ButI am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, andthey like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it overto anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but shecould not tell what indirect or political influence might bebrought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that shehad resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she canlay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house."

"But it has twice been burglarized."

"Pshaw! They did not know how to look."

"But how will you look?"

"I will not look."

"What then?"

"I will get her to show me."

"But she will refuse."

"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It isher carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."

As he spoke, the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came roundthe curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau whichrattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up one of theloafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in thehope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loaferwho had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel brokeout which was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides withone of the loungers, and by the scissors grinder, who was equallyhot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant thelady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the center of a littleknot of struggling men who struck savagely at each other with theirfists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect thelady; but, just as he reached her, he gave a cry and dropped to theground, with the blood running freely down his face. At his fallthe guardsmen took to their heels in one direction and the loungersin the other, while a number of better-dressed people who hadwatched the scuffle without taking part in it crowded in to helpthe lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I willstill call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top,with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the ball,looking back into the street.

"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.

"He is dead," cried several voices.

"No, no, there's life in him," shouted another. "But he'll be gonebefore you can get him to the hospital."

"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had thelady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were agang, and a rough one, too. Ah! he's breathing now."

"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?"

"Surely. Bring him into the sitting room. There is a comfortablesofa. This way, please." Slowly and solemnly he was borne intoBriony Lodge, and laid out in the principal room, while I stillobserved the proceedings from my post by the window. The lamps hadbeen lighted, but the blinds had not been drawn, so that I couldsee Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do not know whether he wasseized with compunction at that moment for the part he was playing,but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in mylife than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I wasconspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited uponthe injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery toHolmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to me.I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under myulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are butpreventing her from injuring another.

Holmes had sat upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man whois in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window.At the same instant I saw him raise his hand, and at the signal Itossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The word wasno sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, welldressed and ill--gentlemen, hostlers, and servant maids--joined ina general shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds of smoke curled throughthe room, and out at the open window. I caught a glimpse ofrushing figures, and a moment later the voice of Holmes from withinassuring them that it was a false alarm. Slipping through theshouting crowd, I made my way to the corner of the street, and inten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend's arm in mine, and toget away from the scene of uproar. He walked swiftly and insilence for some few minutes, until we had turned down one of thequiet streets which led toward the Edgeware Road.

"You did it very nicely, doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could havebeen better. It is all right."

"You have the photograph?"

"I know where it is."

"And how did you find out?"

"She showed me, as I told you that she would."

"I am still in the dark."

"I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matterwas perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in thestreet was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening."

"I guessed as much."

"Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint inthe palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my handto my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick."

"That also I could fathom."

"Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What elsecould she do? And into her sitting room, which was the very roomwhich I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I wasdetermined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned forair, they were compelled to open the window, and you had yourchance."

"How did that help you?"

"It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is onfire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she valuesmost. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more thanonce taken advantage of it. In the case of the DarlingtonSubstitution Scandal it was of use to me, and also in the ArnsworthCastle business. A married woman grabs at her baby--an unmarriedone reaches for her jewel box. Now it was clear to me that ourlady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious to her thanwhat we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it. The alarmof fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were enough toshake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The photographis in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it asshe drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm, shereplaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and Ihave not seen her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, escapedfrom the house. I hesitated whether to attempt to secure thephotograph at once; but the coachman had come in, and as he waswatching me narrowly, it seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance may ruin all."

"And now?" I asked.

"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the king to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will beshown into the sitting room to wait for the lady, but it isprobable that when she comes she may find neither us nor thephotograph. It might be a satisfaction to his majesty to regain itwith his own hands."

"And when will you call?"

"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shallhave a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriagemay mean a complete change in her life and habits. I must wire tothe king without delay."

We had reached Baker Street, and had stopped at the door. He wassearching his pockets for the key, when some one passing said:

"Good night, Mister Sherlock Holmes."

There were several people on the pavement at the time, but thegreeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who hadhurried by.

"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the dimlylighted street. "Now, I wonder who the deuce that could havebeen?"

III

I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon ourtoast and coffee in the morning, when the King of Bohemia rushedinto the room.

"Then that will simplify matters." We descended, and started offonce more for Briony Lodge.

"Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes.

"Married! When?"

"Yesterday."

"But to whom?"

"To an English lawyer named Norton."

"But she could not love him."

"I am in hopes that she does."

"And why in hopes?"

"Because it would spare your majesty all fear of future annoyance.If the lady loves her husband, she does not love your majesty. Ifshe does not love your majesty, there is no reason why she shouldinterfere with your majesty's plan."

"It is true. And yet-- Well, I wish she had been of my ownstation. What a queen she would have made!" He relapsed into amoody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in SerpentineAvenue.

The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood uponthe steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped fromthe brougham.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?" said she.

"I am Mr. Holmes," answered my companion, looking at her with aquestioning and rather startled gaze.

"Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. Sheleft this morning, with her husband, by the 5:15 train from CharingCross, for the Continent."

"We shall see." He pushed past the servant, and rushed into thedrawing-room, followed by the king and myself. The furniture wasscattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves, andopen drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them beforeher flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a smallsliding shutter, and plunging in his hand, pulled out a photographand a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself in eveningdress; the letter was superscribed to "Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To beleft till called for." My friend tore it open, and we all threeread it together. It was dated at midnight of the preceding night,and ran in this way:

"MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,--You really did it very well. Youtook me in completely. Until after the alarm of the fire, I hadnot a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself,I began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I hadbeen told that if the king employed an agent, it would certainly beyou. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, youmade me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I becamesuspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind oldclergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actressmyself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantageof the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watchyou, ran upstairs, got into my walking clothes, as I call them, andcame down just as you departed.

"Well, I followed you to the door, and so made sure that I wasreally an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes.Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good night, and started forthe Temple to see my husband.

"We both thought the best resource was flight when pursued by soformidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when youcall to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest inpeace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The king maydo what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruellywronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and preserve a weaponwhich will always secure me from any steps which he might take inthe future. I leave a photograph which he might care to possess;and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, very truly yours,

"IRENE NORTON, nee ADLER."

"What a woman--oh, what a woman!" cried the King of Bohemia, whenwe had all three read this epistle. "Did I not tell you how quickand resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen?Is it not a pity that she was not on my level?"

"From what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on avery different level to your majesty," said Holmes coldly. "I amsorry that I have not been able to bring your majesty's business toa more successful conclusion."

"On the contrary, my dear sir," cried the king, "nothing could bemore successful. I know that her word is inviolate. Thephotograph is now as safe as if it were in the fire."

"I am glad to hear your majesty say so."

"I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I canreward you. This ring--" He slipped an emerald snake ring fromhis finger, and held it out upon the palm of his hand.

"Your majesty has something which I should value even more highly,"said Holmes.

"You have but to name it."

"This photograph!"

The king stared at him in amazement.

"Irene's photograph!" he cried. "Certainly, if you wish it."

"I thank your majesty. Then there is no more to be done in thematter. I have the honor to wish you a very good morning." Hebowed, and turning away without observing the hand which the kinghad stretched out to him, he set off in my company for hischambers.

And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdomof Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes werebeaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the clevernessof women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And when hespeaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it isalways under the honorable title of THE woman.

The Red-Headed League

I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in theautumn of last year, and found him in deep conversation with a verystout, florid-faced elderly gentleman, with fiery red hair. Withan apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw, when Holmespulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me.

"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dearWatson," he said, cordially.

"I was afraid that you were engaged."

"So I am. Very much so."

"Then I can wait in the next room."

"Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner andhelper in many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubtthat he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also."

The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob ofgreeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small,fat-encircled eyes.

"Try the settee," said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair, andputting his finger tips together, as was his custom when injudicial moods. "I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love ofall that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routineof everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by theenthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you willexcuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own littleadventures."

"Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me," Iobserved.

"You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before wewent into the very simple problem presented by Miss MarySutherland, that for strange effects and extraordinary combinationswe must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than anyeffort of the imagination."

"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting."

"You did, doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view,for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you, untilyour reason breaks down under them and acknowledge me to be right.Now, Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon methis morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one ofthe most singular which I have listened to for some time. You haveheard me remark that the strangest and most unique things are veryoften connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes,and occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether anypositive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard, it isimpossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance ofcrime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the mostsingular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, youwould have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I askyou, not merely because my friend, Dr. Watson, has not heard theopening part, but also because the peculiar nature of the storymakes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips. Asa rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course ofevents I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similarcases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I amforced to admit that the facts are, to the best of my belief,unique."

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of somelittle pride, and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from theinside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down theadvertisement column, with his head thrust forward, and the paperflattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man, andendeavored, after the fashion of my companion, to read theindications which might be presented by his dress or appearance.

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitorbore every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman,obese, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy gray shepherd'scheck trousers, a not over-clean black frock coat, unbuttoned inthe front, and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain,and a square pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. Afrayed top hat and a faded brown overcoat with a wrinkled velvetcollar lay upon a chair beside him. Altogether, look as I would,there was nothing remarkable about the man save his blazing redhead and the expression of extreme chagrin and discontent upon hisfeatures.

Sherlock Holmes's quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook hishead with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. "Beyondthe obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labor, thathe takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China,and that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I candeduce nothing else."

Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger uponthe paper, but his eyes upon my companion.

How, in the name of good fortune, did you know all that, Mr.Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I didmanual labor? It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship'scarpenter."

"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size largerthan your left. You have worked with it and the muscles are moredeveloped."

"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that,especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, youuse an arc and compass breastpin."

"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?"

"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny forfive inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbowwhere you rest it upon the desk."

"Well, but China?"

"The fish which you have tattooed immediately above your wristcould only have been done in China. I have made a small study oftattoo marks, and have even contributed to the literature of thesubject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a delicatepink is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see aChinese coin hanging from your watch chain, the matter becomes evenmore simple."

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never!" said he. "Ithought at first that you had done something clever, but I see thatthere was nothing in it after all."

"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake inexplaining. 'Omne ignotom pro magnifico,' you know, and my poorlittle reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am socandid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes, I have got it now," he answered, with his thick, red fingerplanted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what beganit all. You just read it for yourself, sir."

I took the paper from him and read as follows:

"TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the lateEzekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pa., U. S. A., there is now anothervacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary offour pounds a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed menwho are sound in body and mind and above the age of twenty-oneyears are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o'clock,to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope's Court, FleetStreet."

"What on earth does this mean?" I ejaculated, after I had twiceread over the extraordinary announcement.

Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when inhigh spirits. "It is a little off the beaten track, isn't it?"said he. "And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch, and tell usall about yourself, your household, and the effect which thisadvertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note,doctor, of the paper and the date."

"It is The Morning Chronicle of April 27, 1890. Just two monthsago."

"Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson."

"Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,"said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead, "I have a smallpawnbroker's business at Saxe-Coburg Square, near the City. It'snot a very large affair, and of late years it has not done morethan just give me a living. I used to be able to keep twoassistants, but now I only keep one; and I would have a job to payhim but that he is willing to come for half wages, so as to learnthe business."

"What is the name of this obliging youth?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

"His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he's not such a youth either.It's hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant,Mr. Holmes; and I know very well that he could better himself, andearn twice what I am able to give him. But, after all, if he issatisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?"

"Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employee whocomes under the full market price. It is not a common experienceamong employers in this age. I don't know that your assistant isnot as remarkable as your advertisement."

"Oh, he has his faults, too," said Mr. Wilson. "Never was such afellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he oughtto be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar likea rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his mainfault; but, on the whole, he's a good worker. There's no vice inhim."

"He is still with you, I presume?"

"Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simplecooking, and keeps the place clean--that's all I have in the house,for I am a widower, and never had any family. We live veryquietly, sir, the three of us; and we keep a roof over our heads,and pay our debts, if we do nothing more.

"The first thing that put us out was that advertisement.Spaulding, he came down into the office just this day eight weeks,with this very paper in his hand, and he says:

"'I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a redheaded man.'

"'Why that?' I asks.

"'Why,' says he, 'here's another vacancy on the League of the Red-headed Men. It's worth quite a little fortune to any man who getsit, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there aremen, so that the trustees are at their wits' end what to do withthe money. If my hair would only change color here's a nice littlecrib all ready for me to step into.'

"'Why, what is it, then?' I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am avery stay-at-home man, and, as my business came to me instead of myhaving to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting myfoot over the door mat. In that way I didn't know much of what wasgoing on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news.

"'Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?' heasked, with his eyes open.

"'Never.'

"'Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one ofthe vacancies.'

"'And what are they worth?' I asked.

"'Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight,and it need not interfere very much with one's other occupations.'

"Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, forthe business has not been over good for some years, and an extracouple of hundred would have been very handy.

"'Tell me all about it,' said I.

"'Well,' said he, showing me the advertisement, 'you can see foryourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the addresswhere you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out,the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins,who was very peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, andhe had a great sympathy for all red-headed men; so, when he died,it was found that he had left his enormous fortune in the hands oftrustees, with instructions to apply the interest to the providingof easy berths to men whose hair is of that color. From all I hearit is splendid pay, and very little to do.'

"'But,' said I, 'there would be millions of red-headed men whowould apply.'

"'Not so many as you might think,' he answered. 'You see it isreally confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American hadstarted from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the oldtown a good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is of no use yourapplying if your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything butreal, bright, blazing, fiery red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr.Wilson, you would just walk in; but perhaps it would hardly beworth your while to put yourself out of the way for the sake of afew hundred pounds.'

"Now it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, thatmy hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to methat, if there was to be any competition in the matter, I stood asgood a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spauldingseemed to know so much about it that I thought he might proveuseful, so I just ordered him to put up the shutters for the day,and to come right away with me. He was very willing to have aholiday, so we shut the business up, and started off for theaddress that was given us in the advertisement.

"I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. Fromnorth, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red inhis hair had tramped into the City to answer the advertisement.Fleet Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope's Courtlooked like a coster's orange barrow. I should not have thoughtthere were so many in the whole country as were brought together bythat single advertisement. Every shade of color they were--straw,lemon, orange, brick, Irish setter, liver, clay; but, as Spauldingsaid, there were not many who had the real vivid flame-coloredtint. When I saw how many were waiting, I would have given it upin despair; but Spaulding would not hear of it. How he did it Icould not imagine, but he pushed and pulled and butted until he gotme through the crowd, and right up to the steps which led to theoffice. There was a double stream upon the stair, some going up inhope, and some coming back dejected; but we wedged in as well as wecould, and soon found ourselves in the office."

"Your experience has been a most entertaining one," remarkedHolmes, as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a hugepinch of snuff. "Pray continue your very interesting statement."

"There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs anda deal table, behind which sat a small man, with a head that waseven redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as hecame up, and then he always managed to find some fault in themwhich would disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to besuch a very easy matter after all. However, when our turn came,the little man was much more favorable to me than to any of theothers, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he might havea private word with us.

"'This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,' said my assistant, 'and he is willingto fill a vacancy in the League.'

"'And he is admirably suited for it,' the other answered. 'He hasevery requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything sofine.' He took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, andgazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly heplunged forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on mysuccess.

"'It would be injustice to hesitate,' said he. 'You will, however,I am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.' With thathe seized my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled withthe pain. 'There is water in your eyes,' said he, as he releasedme. 'I perceive that all is as it should be. But we have to becareful, for we have twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint.I could tell you tales of cobbler's wax which would disgust youwith human nature.' He stepped over to the window and shoutedthrough it at the top of his voice that the vacancy was filled. Agroan of disappointment came up from below, and the folk alltrooped away in different directions, until there was not a redhead to be seen except my own and that of the manager.

"'My name,' said he, 'is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one ofthe pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are youa married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?'

"I answered that I had not.

"His face fell immediately.

"'Dear me!' he said, gravely, 'that is very serious indeed! I amsorry to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for thepropagation and spread of the red heads as well as for theirmaintenance. It is exceedingly unfortunate that you should be abachelor.'

"My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I wasnot to have the vacancy after all; but, after thinking it over fora few minutes, he said that it would be all right.

"'In the case of another,' said he, 'the objection might be fatal,but we must stretch a point in favor of a man with such a head ofhair as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your newduties?'

"'Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,'said I.

"'Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!' said Vincent Spaulding.'I shall be able to look after that for you.'

"'What would be the hours?' I asked.

"'Ten to two.'

"Now a pawnbroker's business is mostly done of an evening, Mr.Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evenings, which is justbefore pay day; so it would suit me very well to earn a little inthe mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man,and that he would see to anything that turned up.

"'That would suit me very well,' said I. 'And the pay?'

"'Is four pounds a week.'

"'And the work?'

"'Is purely nominal.'

"'What do you call purely nominal?'

"'Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building,the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole positionforever. The will is very clear upon that point. You don't complywith the conditions if you budge from the office during that time.'

"'It's only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,'said I.

"'No excuse will avail,' said Mr. Duncan Ross, 'neither sickness,nor business, nor anything else. There you must stay, or you loseyour billet.'

"'And the work?'

"'Is to copy out the "Encyclopaedia Britannica." There is thefirst volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink,pens, and blotting paper, but we provide this table and chair.Will you be ready to-morrow?'

"'Certainly,' I answered.

"'Then, good-by, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you oncemore on the important position which you have been fortunate enoughto gain.' He bowed me out of the room, and I went home with myassistant hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at myown good fortune.

"Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was inlow spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the wholeaffair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its objectmight be I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past beliefthat anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay such asum for doing anything so simple as copying out the 'EncyclopaediaBritannica.' Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up,but by bed time I had reasoned myself out of the whole thing.However, in the morning I determined to have a look at it anyhow,so I bought a penny bottle of ink, and with a quill pen and sevensheets of foolscap paper I started off for Pope's Court.

"Well, to my surprise and delight everything was as right aspossible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Rosswas there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off uponthe letter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from timeto time to see that all was right with me. At two o'clock he bademe good-day, complimented me upon the amount that I had written,and locked the door of the office after me.

"This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday themanager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for myweek's work. It was the same next week, and the same the weekafter. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon Ileft at two. By degrees Mr. Duncan Ross took to coming in onlyonce of a morning, and then, after a time, he did not come in atall. Still, of course. I never dared to leave the room for aninstant, for I was not sure when he might come, and the billet wassuch a good one, and suited me so well, that I would not risk theloss of it.

"Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about Abbots,and Archery, and Armor, and Architecture, and Attica, and hopedwith diligence that I might get on to the Bs before very long. Itcost me something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled ashelf with my writings. And then suddenly the whole business cameto an end."

"To an end?"

"Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work asusual at ten o'clock, but the door was shut and locked, with alittle square of cardboard hammered onto the middle of the panelwith a tack. Here it is, and you can read for yourself."

He held up a piece of white cardboard, about the size of a sheet ofnote paper. It read in this fashion:

"THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS DISSOLVED.

Oct. 9, 1890."

Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and therueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair socompletely overtopped every consideration that we both burst outinto a roar of laughter.

"I cannot see that there is anything very funny," cried our client,flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. "If you can donothing better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere."

"No, no," cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from whichhe had half risen. "I really wouldn't miss your case for theworld. It is most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you willexcuse my saying so, something just a little funny about it. Praywhat steps did you take when you found the card upon the door?"

"I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I calledat the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anythingabout it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountantliving on the ground floor, and I asked him if he could tell mewhat had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he hadnever heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Rosswas. He answered that the name was new to him.

"'Well,' said I, 'the gentleman at No. 4.'

"'What, the red-headed man?'

"'Yes.'

"'Oh,' said he, 'his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor,and was using my room as a temporary convenience until his newpremises were ready. He moved out yesterday.'

"'Where could I find him?'

"'Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17King Edward Street, near St. Paul's.'

"I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was amanufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had everheard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross."

"And what did you do then?" asked Holmes.

"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of myassistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only saythat if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quitegood enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a placewithout a struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough togive advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right awayto you."

"And you did very wisely," said Holmes. "Your case is anexceedingly remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it.From what you have told me I think that it is possible that graverissues hang from it than might at first sight appear."

"Grave enough!" said Mr. Jabez Wilson. "Why, I have lost fourpound a week."

"As far as you are personally concerned," remarked Holmes, "I donot see that you have any grievance against this extraordinaryleague. On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by somethirty pounds, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which youhave gained on every subject which comes under the letter A. Youhave lost nothing by them."

"No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, andwhat their object was in playing this prank--if it was a prank--upon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost themtwo-and-thirty pounds."

"We shall endeavor to clear up these points for you. And, first,one or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours whofirst called your attention to the advertisement--how long had hebeen with you?"

"About a month then."

"How did he come?"

"In answer to an advertisement."

"Was he the only applicant?"

"No, I had a dozen."

"Why did you pick him?"

"Because he was handy and would come cheap."

"At half wages, in fact."

"Yes."

"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?"

"Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face,though he's not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid uponhis forehead."

Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. I thoughtas much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears arepierced for earrings?"

"Yes, sir. He told me that a gypsy had done it for him when he wasa lad."

"Hum!" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is stillwith you?"

"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him."

"And has your business been attended to in your absence?"

"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of amorning."

"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinionupon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day isSaturday, and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion."

"Well, Watson," said Holmes, when our visitor had left us, "what doyou make of it all?"

"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a mostmysterious business."

"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the lessmysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featurelesscrimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is themost difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over thismatter."

"What are you going to do, then?" I asked.

"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three-pipe problem, and Ibeg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curledhimself up in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to hishawklike nose, and there he sat with his eyes closed and his blackclay pipe thrusting out like the bill of some strange bird. I hadcome to the conclusion that he had dropped asleep, and indeed wasnodding myself, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair with thegesture of a man who has made up his mind, and put his pipe downupon the mantelpiece.

"Sarasate plays at St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked."What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for afew hours?"

"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never veryabsorbing."

"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first,and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is agood deal of German music on the programme, which is rather more tomy taste than Italian or French. It is introspective, and I wantto introspect. Come along!"

We traveled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a shortwalk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular storywhich we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little,shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy, two-storied brickhouses looked out into a small railed-in inclosure, where a lawn ofweedy grass, and a few clumps of faded laurel bushes made a hardfight against a smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three giltballs and a brown board with JABEZ WILSON in white letters, upon acorner house, announced the place where our red-headed clientcarried on his business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of itwith his head on one side, and looked it all over, with his eyesshining brightly between puckered lids. Then he walked slowly upthe street, and then down again to the corner, still looking keenlyat the houses. Finally he returned to the pawnbroker's and, havingthumped vigorously upon the pavement with his stick two or threetimes, he went up to the door and knocked. It was instantly openedby a bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him tostep in.

"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you wouldgo from here to the Strand."

"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is,in my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring Iam not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have knownsomething of him before."

"Evidently," said I, "Mr. Wilson's assistant counts for a good dealin this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that youinquired your way merely in order that you might see him."

"Not him."

"What then?"

"The knees of his trousers."

"And what did you see?"

"What I expected to see."

"Why did you beat the pavement?"

"My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. Weare spies in an enemy's country. We know something of Saxe-CoburgSquare. Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it."

The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the cornerfrom the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a contrastto it as the front of a picture does to the back. It was one ofthe main arteries which convey the traffic of the City to the northand west. The roadway was blocked with the immense stream ofcommerce flowing in a double tide inward and outward, while thefootpaths were black with the hurrying swarm of pedestrians. Itwas difficult to realize, as we looked at the line of fine shopsand stately business premises, that they really abutted on theother side upon the faded and stagnant square which we had justquitted.

"Let me see," said Holmes, standing at the corner, and glancingalong the line, "I should like just to remember the order of thehouses here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge ofLondon. There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist; the little newspapershop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, theVegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot.That carries us right on to the other block. And now, doctor,we've done our work, so it's time we had some play. A sandwich anda cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all issweetness, and delicacy, and harmony, and there are no red-headedclients to vex us with their conundrums."

My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only avery capable performer, but a composer of no ordinary merit. Allthe afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfecthappiness, gently waving his long thin fingers in time to themusic, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyeswere as unlike those of Holmes the sleuth-hound, Holmes therelentless, keen-witted, ready-handed criminal agent, as it waspossible to conceive. In his singular character the dual naturealternately asserted itself, and his extreme exactness andastuteness represented, as I have often thought, the reactionagainst the poetic and contemplative mood which occasionallypredominated in him. The swing of his nature took him from extremelanguor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was never sotruly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been lounging inhis armchair amid his improvisations and his black-letter editions.Then it was that the lust of the chase would suddenly come uponhim, and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the levelof intuition, until those who were unacquainted with his methodswould look askance at him as on a man whose knowledge was not thatof other mortals. When I saw him that afternoon so enwrapped inthe music at St. James's Hall, I felt that an evil time might becoming upon those whom he had set himself to hunt down.

"You want to go home, no doubt, doctor," he remarked, as weemerged.

"Yes, it would be as well."

"And I have some business to do which will take some hours. Thisbusiness at Saxe-Coburg Square is serious."

"Why serious?"

"A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason tobelieve that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day beingSaturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help to-night."

"At what time?"

"Ten will be early enough."

I shall be at Baker Street at ten."

"Very well. And, I say, doctor! there may be some little danger,so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket." He waved hishand, turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among thecrowd.

I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbors, but I wasalways oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealingswith Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I hadseen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident thathe saw clearly not only what had happened, but what was about tohappen, while to me the whole business was still confused andgrotesque. As I drove home to my house in Kensington I thoughtover it all, from the extraordinary story of the red-headed copierof the "Encyclopaedia" down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, andthe ominous words with which he had parted from me. What was thisnocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? Where were wegoing, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmes thatthis smooth-faced pawnbroker's assistant was a formidable man--aman who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle it out, but gaveit up in despair, and set the matter aside until night should bringan explanation.

It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my wayacross the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Twohansoms were standing at the door, and, as I entered the passage, Iheard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room, Ifound Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom Irecognized as Peter Jones, the official police agent; while theother was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat andoppressively respectable frock coat.

"Ha! our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his pea-jacket, and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. "Watson,I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce youto Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night'sadventure."